


yours.

by gunnedrobin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27152833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunnedrobin/pseuds/gunnedrobin
Summary: jason sends you a letter.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Reader
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	yours.

His eyes are fixed over the horizon, his feet dangling off from the gargoyle head he was perched on. The wind was starting to get cold now, he notices. The weather in Gotham was always harsh, he of all people, was painfully aware of that. Jason takes a deep breath. Staring at the distance was something he did often nowadays. Maybe he was just tired, maybe he was just bored, but either way he hated it.

Because it meant more time to think about you.

Jason wonders where you are. Where you are, what you’re doing, what’s on your mind. He licks his lips, letting out a deep breath that practically engulfs the insides of his helmet with steam. If he closes his eyes and let his mind drift, he admits that part of him almost swears that he can still feel your heat. Your presence, your laugh, your voice.

And that hurts him a little more.

He remembers the time you poured your heart out to him, it came to him as a surprise. Both of your still beaten up selves chugging down a bottle of vodka on the floor of whatever dingy and cheap motel room you both rented out. He doesn’t remember what mission it was, or how in the world did you manage to get away from the beating. All he remembers now was the fact that the alcohol was to compensate for the fast-fading adrenaline. Something to numb the pain of your aching bodies because the both of you were too lazy to patch yourselves up at the moment.

_“Let’s just do it tomorrow… I’m so fucking tired to move.” you whine._

_He laughs, drinking in the sight of you, clad in some random shorts of his and your sports bra. Face still covered in grime and dried up blood. He isn’t any better either, the same dirt covered face, and left in the sweaty undershirt from where he haphazardly took off his armor and a pair of boxers. Both of your gears thrown in random directions, a result of being too exhausted to give a fuck and the will to get out of the sweaty uniforms as fast as possible._

_Your stare at him, his back against the side of the bed and head leaning back, eyes closed. He doesn’t bother to open them as he takes another sip of his liquor bottle. He was beautiful, you muse. It didn’t even matter if the only thing that lighted up his form was a dim yellow light that crept from the lamp post outside, because Jason was divine. Always have, always will._

_And for a moment, you let yourself fall into the idea that this form of comfort of domesticity could be something more. That the two of you could be more than best friends, bonded over the joy and the pain, the secrets and the dreams, yet somehow, a small part of you hopes for more… that the two of you could be lovers._

_The harsh reality of those thoughts being just daydreams hits you and you opt for another sip of your own drink._

_He finally opens his eyes, his stare meeting yours, a soft smile on his lips and a small raise of his eyebrows in question. You realize you’ve been staring._

_“This is my last mission, you know that right?” You ask him._

_He blinks._

_You’ve talked about that before, he knows, he’s actually very supportive of it, yet a part of him wonders where the need to repeat it comes from. It’s not like you won’t see each other still._

_“I know.” He responds, looking at you warily as you took another sip._

_Maybe it’s the liquid courage, maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s the way you feel his eyes on you…still your mouth moves before you can even manage to comprehend the words that come out of it._

_“Jason, I know you’ve figured it out by now…”_

_“What do you mean, doll?”_

_You look him in the eyes, face stern that it almost send shivers down his spine._

_“That I love you…more than a friend.”_

_Silence. The look in your eyes tells him that he can’t laugh his way out of this one. Because you knew, and he can never get himself to lie to you._

_“I know.” He simply states. Taking a deep breath, he finds the will and the right words to at least explain himself, “… but you know that…”_

_“…you have a girlfriend and you don’t feel the same. Yeah I know, I’m not expecting anything either too. Just thought I should tell you.”_

_He doesn’t say anything else, in all honestly, he doesn’t know how to respond to that. You help yourself with another chug._

_“So after this…where are you headed next, Jay?” you try to avert the topic, as if asking him about his new mission would dissolve the awkwardness in the air._

_“Bosnia.”_

_“Do you really have to go?”_

_You both know the answer to that._

* * *

_You stare at his sleeping face. The dawn drowns him in a faint purple glow. His soft breaths coming out of his parted mouth. He looked almost innocent, safe from the world of pain in chaos that you both managed to get yourselves in. You’ll miss this. You’ll miss him. Because as much as that world is messed up, he was that sliver of peace and hope that you found solace in._

_But all things must come to an end, and it’s time to start over._

_You long to touch him, one last time, for old time sake but decide not to. Afraid that even the slightest touch could wake him up from his slumber and that’s the last thing you want._

_Because looking at his eyes and seeing him staring at you as you leave makes it harder than it already is._

_‘I love you.’ You mouth at him._

* * *

* * *

Jason remembers waking up to a cold room. Alone. You left your gear. No note. The thought makes him sigh. It makes him want to scream, to reach out and grab for something, for anything. He pats down the pockets of his pants. Feeling for a folded piece of paper. A crumpled envelope with you name on it. A letter he wrote and rewrote over and over again. Mulling if he should send it, if he even needed too. You found peace now, and he realizes that he’s scared to ruin even that – a life that you always yearned for, wished for, planned for – for you. Just because he was pretty fucking selfish. He wonders if you’ll receive it. But somehow, a force drives him to drop it by the post office on his way home, hands shivering as he finally managed to send the faithful piece of paper.

_One last time._

* * *

_Doll,_

_I never had the chance to see you before you left._

_The last time we saw each other, I was leaving for Bosnia and you made an attempt to make me stay. If only I knew that the last image of you that I’ll see was a wasted one covered in dirt before I drifted to sleep then I think I wouldn’t have slept at all._

_How are you doing? Are you okay?_

_You asked me once, if I finally sorted out my feelings for you, but back then I had a lot going on in my head. Always was. You knew that right? And I never gave you a concrete answer. Maybe because part of me was afraid to gamble what we have. You’re my best friend, after all. The only thing constant in this forsaken life, was you. And all I could think about when you asked me was: ‘Why here? Why now?’_

_It’s been a while since I last received letters from you. Even when I told you I was romantically involved with someone, the letters kept coming. I thought to myself, how lucky I was to have a friend like you. If only I could learn to love you back the way you wanted to._

_I noticed it, though, the widening spaces between the days the letters arrived…before they came to a complete stop. I still have your post cards. The last one you sent, you were in Asia. That was six months ago. You didn’t even bother to right something long. Just a short, “I’m okay.” A part of me wants to get mad at you, to feel hurt, only to realize that maybe, you grew tired. After all, what good is sending a letter to someone who didn’t even bother to write back._

_You also deactivated all your accounts, even Roy has no idea how to find you. Even the demon spawn wouldn’t even talk about you. LOL. He’s fond of you too you know. I’m pretty sure he’ll trade me off for you. I think he knows where you are…but then again, I’m not sure of anything. First time for Damian to actually keep his mouth shut – and the first time I actually want him to run it if that meant actually knowing how you’re actually doing._

_Where to start?_

_You always told me that I don’t even have to speak and you don’t even need to hear anything from me to know what’s on my mind. I’m grateful for that. Words have a way of getting mixed up and lost in my head, even back then…and yet, you have a way of untangling them, of placing them perfectly next to each other until they form what I want to carry across. Well, they always say I’ a charmer, heh. But then again there’s a difference between speaking when you need to and pouring your heart out in the middle of the night because the world becomes a little bit too suffocating. And in those moments, when I’m drowning and gasping for air, you made me breathe again._

_Truth is, Doll, I’ve been thinking over a lot lately .I’ve been rereading your letters, and every time, yearning for a home hits me harder than the last._

_In the darkest hours of the night and the start of dawn, when sleep does not visit me, and all I can do is stare at the ceiling, I can’t help but think of you – you and the nights we spent together laying down the manor’s tiled roof and stare at the stars, and it’s cheesy I know. I always told you how much of a hopeless romantic you were whenever you get all doe eyed with the smallest things I do._

_I never told this to anyone but, sometimes, when I smoke a cig in the most random of places, a small part of me longs for your voice, telling me that one day, maybe the nicotine will be the death of me. Nowadays, I’ll light even a pack in one sitting if that meant I’d hear your voice again._

_I don’t know what’s happening anymore, doll. Even the scent of coffee, the sound of rain and passing cars, the yellow lights of the city streets, the texture of cloth – all you. Damn, I’m getting to sentimental over everything. Can you believe that? Me?_

_I broke up with my girlfriend not long after the letters came to a stop. She told me she can tell I was occupied, by something— by something, by someone. She told me there was something in the way that I look over the horizon that made me look like I was waiting for something to return._

_I was an asshole. To you. To her. To everyone._

_I found home in you, Doll. I know that now. And even as I write this now, on top of a random gargoyle overlooking the city streets of Gotham, all of which bears a memory of you. To be honest, I’m torn if I should send this to you in the first place or to just burn it. But still, I think that I owe you that much. I owe you the truth._

_So that’s probably it… I’ve been back in town for almost a year and a half now. To be honest, I was hoping for some kind of miracle, hoping that magically, I’d still find you here, but of course, you’re long gone._

_I’m happy for you. You finally chased the peaceful life you always wanted for so long… the one that you asked me to join – but you and I both know I’m not strong enough to put the mask in its glass case for good._

_To be honest, I thought it was unfair that you didn’t even wait for me to bid you good bye. Only to realize that right from the start, you always did. Even if I didn’t ask for it._

_So maybe, wishing that you waited one last time was somehow a dick move for me, and I’m unfair._

~~_I just….it’s just…I…Fuck it._ ~~

_I miss you._

_Where are you?_

_I love you. I finally do._

_Meet me again?_

**_Please?_ **

_Yours,_

_Jason_


End file.
